


Sugar and Spice

by Stealthtable



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Begging, Dom/sub, F/F, Feathers & Featherplay, Handcuffs, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Role Reversal, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:58:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stealthtable/pseuds/Stealthtable
Summary: Sloane thinks Hurley’s bossy. Hurley wonders what Sloane will do with her newfound authority.





	Sugar and Spice

“You’re so bossy,” whines Sloane, picking up the wrench and replacing it in the kit where it belongs.

“Hello, militia,” points out Hurley, “and I don’t think it’s bossy to insist that tools go back in their places. It’s easier to find them next time.”

“You know,” Sloane replies, drawing out the syllables suggestively in a way Hurley recognizes, “I can be bossy too. It could be...fun.” Sloane grins, just this side of evil as her eyes lock with Hurley’s. Sloane winks.

Hurley swallows once. “Like, ah—you mean like in bed?” she asks, feeling a flush starting to creep up her neck.

“Sure,” Sloane answers playfully, “although who says it has to be in a bed?” Hurley’s face is completely red now as Sloane asks more seriously, “would you like that?”

Hurley nods, a little nervous. What if Sloane thinks she’s a freak or something? But she can’t deny it: she’s thought about this before, when she had first chased down the Raven. Hurley’s always the one doing the chasing, giving the orders, living up to the responsibility and authority of the militia. She’s...wondered what it might feel like to let Sloane take the lead and do what she wants. It sounds hot.

Sloane cuts into Hurley’s thoughts. “I’m gonna need more than just a nod, Hurls. Answer me: would you like it if I took charge?”

Hurley takes a deep breath. Okay, yeah. “Yes,” she answers, “I wanna try it anyway. You won’t be like...too rough or anything right?”

Sloane shakes her head, patting Hurley’s hand as she replies. “No, of course not,” she says, “I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do to me, and we can pick a safe word and stop if you’re uncomfortable. I just want you to let me take control and make you feel good. Trust me, okay?” Hurley’s blush deepens.

~~~~~

That had been two days ago. The two had hashed out limits and picked a safe word, then gone back to their work on the battlewagon. Sloane had said she’d find a good time to try their little experiment before she had headed home. Hurley hadn’t seen Sloane since, which wasn’t unusual considering Hurley’s militia shifts. Hurley reaches for the stapler. She is busy with filing today, making sure all the paperwork attendant to her work with the militia reaches its proper destination, when a figure bursts into the office.

Hurley recognizes him right away: Jack is a frequent informant. “What’s going on, Jack?” Hurley asks, “got a good tip for me?”

He certainly does. Jack explains that he’s been asked by the Raven to deliver a message to the owner of a pawn shop in the next town over. The Raven wants to meet the man at the old Red Candle Inn, probably to fence some stolen jewels.

Hurley writes down the information and thanks Jack, who leaves the office with strict instructions not to actually deliver the message. Hurley ponders a moment. Sloane isn’t stupid. She’s known Jack was a snitch for, what, 6 months, easily? And she knows that Jack doesn’t trust Captain Captain Bane and will only work with Hurley. She wants Hurley to know where she’ll be. Hurley feels her heart skip: Sloane wants to play.

~~~~~

The Red Candle Inn has been empty for years. A fire in the kitchen had caused enough damage that the owners had abandoned it, but not so much that the building is unsound. Add to that the empty shops in this district and the new housing development across town, and no one ever really has cause to be within blocks of the inn—unless you’re, say, fencing stolen jewels or setting up a tryst between secret lovers. Hurley pushes open the door and enters the inn’s main room as the door slams shut behind her. It’s pitch dark except for a little pool of light from a dirty window, and seems empty. This place used to be a bustling barroom, but now all the left behind furniture is covered in dust. Hurley gropes her way forward, squinting and feeling her way between tables and chairs and listening for Sloane. She doesn’t want to call out just yet, not until she’s sure that this is what she thinks it is.

Hurley feels a quick tug at her belt and hears Sloane’s voice at her ear, low and mischievous. “You still up for what we talked about?” Hurley nods. She can feel Sloane’s breath right against her ear, and it sends shivers of anticipation through her whole body. Sloane clicks her tongue in disapproval. “You know better than that, Hurley. Say it. I won’t lay a finger on you unless you tell me you want this.”

“Yes,” whispers Hurley.

“Yes what, Hurley? Tell me what you want, and be polite about it,” Sloane chides, her voice almost a singsong.

Hurley feels heat starting to form between her legs as she pushes her shoulders back. “Yes, please,” she says, more firmly, “I want this. Please take control.”

“Good girl,” croons Sloane, nipping Hurley’s ear with sharp, even teeth just hard enough to sting and make Hurley’s breath hitch. Sloane steps in front of Hurley and, using just her fingertips, gently pushes her backward toward the weak light from the window, stopping just short of the brighter space.

“Step into the light,” Sloane orders evenly, “and strip. Slowly.”

Hurley gasps and bites back a whimper of embarrassment. She feels a low hum of desire start to manifest deep in her belly. She can feel herself starting to blush again as she obeys, stepping into the light and fumbling with the belt on her tunic as she removes it. She sheds her tunic and looks around, spotting a table right where the light fades, and folding the tunic neatly before setting it down. Something seems off though, and Hurley realizes that her handcuffs aren’t attached to her belt. Realization hits her: so that’s what Sloane meant when she said “nothing you wouldn’t do to me”.

Hurley looks back at Sloane. She’s wearing her raven mask, and almost impossible to see dressed head-to-toe in black. “Sloane?” Hurley begins, her voice almost a moan, but Sloane cuts her off, crossing the space between them and abruptly pinching both of Hurley’s nipples. Hurley cries out in surprise and pain.

“Keep going,” Sloane instructs. “Don’t make me tell you twice.” She releases Hurley and steps back again, and Hurley can see her smile beneath the mask.

Hurley squats to remove her boots, but Sloane stops her. “Not like that,” she chides, “bend over. Let me see that firm ass.” Hurley obeys, blushing harder than she ever has and removing her boots. Sloane wants sexy, and Hurley figures she can at least try.

Hurley reaches for her waistband and gives a little shimmy as she slowly begins to lower her trousers. She hears Sloane hum appreciatively, and rolls her hips as she goes, bending all the way over as she peels the trousers down her legs. She steps out of them, folds them, and then repeats the process with her panties. She stands before Sloane without a stitch between her and the Celestial Plane, and waits.

Sloane saunters back over to Hurley, grinning behind her mask and running her hands across Hurley’s skin, across her breasts and belly, up to her shoulders and down her back. She brings a hand up and tangles it into Hurley’s short hair, tugging slightly. “Good girl,” she praises, drawing a moan from Hurley, “ready for the next part?”

Hurley swallows, heat building in her as she responds, “yes, please, I’m ready.”

“Good.” Sloane lets go of Hurley’s hair and takes her right arm. Hurley trembles as she feels something cold on her wrist and hears a familiar clicking sound as Sloane cuffs her hands behind her back. 

Sloane guides Hurley to a chair, and Hurley notices it’s missing its layer of dust. Sloane has planned this out. “Sit down,” Sloane orders firmly, “and spread your legs as wide as they’ll go.”

Hurley sits, pulling at the handcuffs as she does. Sloane laughs. “Those’ll bruise your wrists if you pull like that, believe me, I know.” Hurley gapes. When was Sloane in handcuffs? She’s never been able to catch Sloane. As far as she knows, no one has.

Sloane chuckles. “What, did you think I went from upright citizen to uncatchable master criminal overnight? We all get brought in for petty shit in the beginning, and it’s not like you would know me from my hometown.” She pulls a out a long feather she’s tucked into the side of her mask and twirls it.

“Now,” she says, “how about a little teasing? Are you ticklish, Hurley?”

Hurley stares at the feather and squirms as Sloane brings it closer. “I—“ she begins, and swallows hard, “I’m kinda ticklish, please, please, not too much, I won’t be able to stand it, please—“ Hurley begs as Sloane chuckles and gently runs the feather down the center of Hurley’s body.

Hurley feels a flashing sensation over her whole body as Sloane teases her, now running the feather down her belly, now across her breasts, now deliberately teasing each nipple. Hurley is wetter than she’s ever been and desperately wants Sloane’s fingers filling her. Her skin is hot and flushed, and she moans and wriggles as Sloane teases her. She hears herself begin to beg: “Sloane, please, please, I can’t take it, please finger me, gods I need to come, please, Sloane, please,” but Sloane just laughs and methodically keeps at it with the feather.

“You’re a greedy girl, aren’t you?” Sloane mocks over Hurley’s pleading. “So desperate! I’ll bet you’d do anything for me right now, wouldn’t you?”

Hurley nods vigorously and begs harder, her words becoming less and less guarded and coherent. “Yes, fuck, oh Sloane, please, please, I’ll do anything, shit, just let me come, please, please, let me go, I’ll do it, I’ll let you watch, I’ll make you feel good, please, fuck, please,” she chants, and tries to squeeze her legs closed to try to get some relief.

Sloane catches Hurley’s legs before they close, and delivers a sharp smack to the inside of each thigh. Hurley wails, frustrated. “Naughty,” Sloane scolds, “keep your legs open like I told you. That’s two warnings, keep it up and you’ll see what happens for number three,” she threatens, reaching around to pinch Hurley’s ass hard. “Let’s try again,” she says, picking the feather back up and starting it back on its slow torturous path.

Hurley is still wailing, begging for relief as Sloane teases her mercilessly. “Please, Sloane, I can’t take it!” she cries, “please help me come, please!”

“If you want me to stop, you know what to say,” Sloane prompts, circling Hurley’s left nipple with the feather.

Hurley doesn’t want to stop. She’s right on the edge, desperate for orgasm, and if she stops now she’ll only end up frustrated. “No, I’ll be good, I promise, please, don’t stop, please, please, I need to come, please, Sloane, FUCK!” Hurley screams as Sloane drops the feather, pulls off her mask, and runs her tongue up Hurley’s slit before circling her clit. Sloane slides two fingers into Hurley’s dripping slit, curling them just so. Hurley arches backward and moans, babbling incoherently, “yes, fuck, oh yes, please, please, oh Sloane FUCK!” she screams as she comes hard. The orgasm rockets through her as Sloane continues her ministrations. Hurley collapses forward, shuddering, her hands trying to grip the rail on the back of the chair so as not to fall off. Sloane gently pulls her fingers free, then looks Hurley in the eye and deliberately licks them clean.

Sloane pulls out the key to the handcuffs, pilfered from Hurley two days back. She gently unlocks the handcuffs and sets Hurley free, massaging her wrists. Hurley is still shuddering and looks like she’s run a marathon. Sloane reaches over to an adjacent table and retrieves the glass of water waiting there. She wraps an arm around Hurley and presses it to her lips. “Here you go, Hurls, have some water,” she says, “that was pretty intense for you, huh?” Sloane begins to gently massage Hurley’s shoulders, seemingly knowing exactly which muscles are sore from having her hands cuffed for so long. Hurley takes a deep breath that finishes as a light moan as Sloane works out the tension. Sloane lifts the smaller woman and steals the seat, settling Hurley on her lap.

Hurley gulps down the water and giggles. “I loved it,” she says, and goes in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, have some smut on this fine Sunday. I have never written anything quite this spicy before; hopefully you can all indulge me a little.
> 
> Yell in the comments if you’d like!


End file.
